


Match Made in the Stars

by TheStarsAwait



Series: Treasured Moments [1]
Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Adoption, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Planet, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Violence, Both are Young Adults, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Handful of Headcanons, Romantic Friendship, Sarah is tired, Unplanned Pregnancy, and Johnny's Flirting Ain't Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarsAwait/pseuds/TheStarsAwait
Summary: Young Sarah Hawkins may have taken a wrong turn at the bazaar. Lucky for her, ol' Johnny Silver dubs himself as her personal bodyguard and cannot keep his flirts to a minimum.(According to the Disney Wikipedia, Sarah was around 17-18 when she was preggo with Jimbo, so I'm going with that in the fic.)
Relationships: Sarah Hawkins/John Silver
Series: Treasured Moments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109696
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Pick Your Poison

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Little Helping Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078092) by [Foilfreak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foilfreak/pseuds/Foilfreak). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah gets bamboozled and Johnny has a laugh.

Recently dumped with a bun in the oven was about as fun as it sounded. Sarah had been the one anchoring the toxic relationship from the start, hoping it would get better when it could really only get worse, and she didn't know why she was surprised when it blew up in her face like a nuclear bomb.

Sarah had to do what any other girl in her shoes would do. Hide the fact she was expecting, unmarried, and make a living at a place where if word ever got out, it was understandable. Benbow Inn was an inheritance from her late father, and after her mother disappeared to a system for the rich and privileged, Sarah had run the tavern with limited staff (a working crew of she, herself, and no one else), slim profit, and no one would question if her method of unwinding after such stress left her with an unanticipated pregnancy.

At least, that was how Sarah hoped it would be like, but she was setting herself up for another bombing. No one around here in the time of carriages and solar-powered sails gave those who crossed the orthodox boundaries a second chance.

So far, she'd done well keeping little James Pleiades Hawkins healthy and safe with a roof over his unborn head. Unlike his father, she was ecstatic about meeting him, holding his tiny hand, breathing in that wonderful sweet baby smell. While her prior dreams had been dashed, she'd make it up to herself to be the best mother she could be. It was her duty and greatest desire. He was all she had.

Sarah sniffed a fuzzy brown tuber, deemed it ripe, and placed it inside her basket. She fished out some coins, and the cycloptic saleswoman nodded in thanks as Sarah was swept back into the crowded grounds of the market. Smells swirled around her, from people and the products they had on display. The sun was blazing hot, amplifying her already sensitive senses. Jewelry blinded and dazzled, certain cooking dishes for those of acquired taste made her stomach churn with hunger or nausea. Sarah did her best to go about her shopping prim and proper, but once or twice her hormones got the better of her.

She may or may not have offended a squid-selling cephalopodian by pointing out the 'family resemblance'. Yeah, she was banned. It was a good thing she didn't need to shop there anyway.

The brunette let herself get carried by the current of buyers and businesspeople, not quite knowing where it would take her. As daunting as it sometimes was to come out in public, it was better than being uncomfortable at the inn, keeping her baby bump tucked in tight. She'd confided in her dear friend Delbert's kind help, and despite his inexperience as 'that-kind-of-a-doctor' he opted to give her a check-up now and then, and in fact, had been the one to give her the simple scanning device that revealed the baby's gender.

She smiled to herself. He'd make a fine father one day... but not for her kid, God no. Ew. It'd be a little weird having a canid for a husband.

The clamor of the streets and vendors diminished with each unnoticed step. Smile falling, Sarah wrapped her shawl tighter around her, finding herself in a less popular section of the marketplace. Vendors in the Beta Quarter seemed to match the slummy surroundings. Cramped tenements hung over her like mountains of misfortune, clotheslines interwoven like grim, sagging frowns. Cages of animals clucked and chittered, and a carriage clomped towards her at full speed. She side-stepped, pulling her skirt away just in time before the wheels snagged her skirt.

"Oy, watch it, lady!" the three-headed driver hissed, each mouth spitting a wad of tobacco.

Sarah swallowed her anger, hand on her bonnet. This was not the place to make neither enemy nor friends.

An acrid wisp of smoke abruptly rolled out from a jutting pipe, right at her. She coughed, fanning her hand, and stepping away with her mind scrambled. Wait, did she take a left at the watch vendor? Or was it right after the tent with a raggedy woman plucking a screeching fowl? Nothing seemed to look familiar. Just ominous and unwelcome.

Oh, _stars._ She was--

"Lost, miss?"

Spoken grandiosely, a gravelly space-faring accent came unexpectedly from beneath a propped canopy draped with once-colorful cloths. Textiles and exotic trader paraphernalia strung around the stall in an eye-catching arrangement. Strangely, there was one mechanical part-- an arm --set on the stall counter like a fresh-caught fish.

Sarah froze, unsure if she should speak to a stranger from this kind of neighborhood. She couldn't see him very well either... and a faint glimpse made her spine rack with a shiver. One golden, unnatural eye was peering at her.

Stepping out from the shadowy section of the stall, the man set his other elbow on the cluttered counter. Sarah was pierced with shock seeing the robot part was in fact _attached_ to him. He was about as young as she was, perhaps a year or two older, and from a species she'd seen few of these days; an Ursid. By tales and tidbits, they were traveling merchants and nomads, not ones to call a sector of space their own.

This one struck her immediately as an able spacer, one of the things that gave it away being his mannerisms. He had a considerably tall, strongly built body outlined by his sleeveless shirt and apron and a bright red bandanna that did its best to contain shaggy brown hair. Though the robot arm and _eye_ were off-putting, he wasn't bad to look at. A pierced ear, a gap-toothed grin, and a hint of a tattoo on his shoulder-- all the kind of teenage male charms probably used on other girls caught in her predicament.

Sarah clutched her shawl harder. "Um, n-no, I think I'm okay," she answered.

"Think so?" Clearly, he did not believe her. He pulled up a stool, propping his boots up on the counter. Taking out a small knife, he snagged a fruit from a bowl and began skinning it. "Well, 'en, g'day. Unless y'wanted ta buy somethin'."

Sarah took that as her sign to beat it. However, her legs and direction-less brain were not in tune with her heart's request. She circled the grimy street twice before feeling chagrin and shuffled back up to the trader's stall.

He regarded her out of the corner of his robotic eye, lazily feigning surprise. "Interested in somethin' I might offer ya?"

"I'm a little lost," Sarah admitted with a sheepish lift of her shoulders. "I've never been in this part of town before..."

"Not ta worry, miss. Most folks forget 'ese kinda districts exist." He rummaged underneath the counter, setting out a jug and cup. "First though, why don't ye 'ave somethin' ta drink? Ya seem like ye could use it."

Sarah eyed the worn cup. "I think I'm alright."

"Thinkin' again? How 'bout y'make a solid choice fer yer lil' bundle-a brewin' joy in there?"

A look of confusion, then dawning shock rippled across Sarah's face. Her hand traveled down the hardly-noticeable curve of her middle. "How did.."

The Ursid chuckled out of his characteristically broad nose, tapping the side of his head with his knife handle. "Got meself a good eye, th'sall. Can read heat signatures and scan fer health." 

When Sarah subtly brought her arms up to her chest, the vendor gave a hearty guffaw. He took a bite of his peeled fruit, muttering around a mouthful, "Don't 'ave _that_ kinda vision, love. It'd definitely bring me bad business."

Oh. Well, she had to take precautions in a place like this, not simply for her sake, which was why she kept staring at the cup hesitantly.

"Go on, now, 'ave a swig, is' jus' water from th' tap. Y'want me ta prove it ain't poisoned?"

Sarah placed a hand on her hip and replied as-a-matter-of-factly, "Sure."

The man rolled his gaze heavenward. He poured the drink and downed it in two whole gulps, licking his lips. "Oh no, ack-!" As if something possessed him, he clutched his throat, hacking and dry-heaving.

Sarah was convinced he was being dramatic. But then she outright _panicked_ when he dropped from of his chair, out of view, his prosthetic hand shaking and then sinking behind the counter. A few seconds of silence passed, and Sarah was pretty sure that meant the Reaper had come for his unfortunate soul.

Peeping over the stall, she braced for a gruesome image, not sure why she was worrying over a man who had tried to poison her. A frown flattened her lips.

The bastard was lying Roman fashion, quirking a brow up at her. "Ha, ha! Got ye good, didn' I?" he teased.

"That's not very funny."

"Well, I proved it wudn't poisoned none."

"Honestly, it convinced me you're crazy."

"Eh, that I am." He got up, dusted himself off, and then set his chin on a fist, getting _slightly_ too close for comfort. "Y'gonna trust me ta help ya or not? Or else ye could ask 'im over there for a cup o' water an' a map."

Sarah glanced to where he gestured. In the gloom of an alley, a horned reptilian man was leering with a sharp-toothed smile. Yikes.

When the trader poured her new cup, she hastily accepted it. Her muscles relaxed as the child inside her was grateful for the hydration, and her cloudy head cleared up.

"There, that feelin' any be'er?"

"Thank you. I think I have some money.."

"Nonsense." He winked, his golden orb glimmering like the offered coin. "Water's free fer everyone."

Sarah smiled. That charm was infecting her despite her better judgment. "So, directions out of this dump?" she asked.

The Ursid had his mouth halfway open and a finger pointed when a loud shout made him clench his teeth and cringe.

"JOHNNY!"

Another, slightly shorter Ursid shoved their way next to him, a male in the same range of age yet different in body shape. He was leaner, vaguely sharper in features. Sarah had the pleasure of watching her previous entertainer get his ear painfully yanked to the newcomer's level.

"Dammit, Johnny, where 'n the hell did you put the seasonin'? The bloody stew's tasting like sh-- _mf!_ "

The taller a hand clapped on the shorter's mouth, cutting off the crude curse with an apologetic look Sarah's way. She had a mother's intuition guess that he was his sibling. 

"Pardon m'brother Ishmael, he don' 'ave the sense the stars gave a goat--" Johnny's sentence didn't get to finish either as his sibling jammed an elbow into his softer stomach. 

"You, John Maior Silver, got a decent-sized dent in ya skull when Mum dropped ya as a cub!" Ishmael emphasized his lack of intellect by pounding two fingers against his brother's forehead. "If it weren't for me, you'd be floatin' somewhere n' space without ya limbs."

"Oh for th' love of--" Johnny shot a hand out into the backroom, bellowing, " _T_ _he seasonin's in tha bloomin' cupboard!"_

 _"Thank_ you." Ishmael straightened his apron and cooled his top. To the witness of his sibling rivalry, he said with startling eloquence, "Sorry you had to see that, ma'am. If you need someone less dense to deal business with, I shall await your needs."

Sarah tittered behind a hand. Well, that was fun to watch. It didn't seem like someone enjoyed it as much as she had, though.

Without looking at her-- probably too embarrassed to --Johnny hunkered down on the counter, rubbing his sore gut with one hand. The other, he pointed and made a looping gesture. "Take a right at th' canner's cart. Keep goin' straight and you'll make it ta th' main road."

"Thank you so much."

"Nah, don' mention it, love."

Glad to be on her way, Sarah waddled with a purpose. A minute ticked by before she slowed for some reason, glancing back in time to see the cyborg walk into the back room of his establishment. 

She set a hand on her stomach, rubbed it in quiet thought, then continued down the path.


	2. Holding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah's admirer confronts her, and it's not the one you think.

Sarah had no warning. One minute she caught sight of the canner's cart, the next, a scaly hand was snatching her wrist, scattering her hard-earned groceries.

She didn't register who the attacker was until she was pinned against the alley wall, bombarded by a foul kiss. She thrashed, pleading for him to let go, but it went wholly ignored. His intent was clear as he groped places with greed, a knife to her side should she not comply to his sinful wishes. Sarah could almost hear the baby inside her start to wail, upset from the jostling, the sharp weapon poised inches from his little head.

Much to her horror, other figures started to slither from the darkness. 

Like hungry wolves, they surrounded and ensured no escape. One of the goons blocked the alley, sneering as their latest victim struggled against the violation creeping up on her. "Hold the dame good, Nork, we wanna piece'a her."

Tears poured down Sarah's cheeks, and she didn't know why she deserved such a cruel fate. She had tried to be a good wife and wanted more than anything to be a good mother. She wanted to care for her baby, but.. could she even care for herself? All she could do beneath the villain's claws was squeeze her eyes shut, praying that knife didn't pierce her dress that was tugged upward... 

The look-out gave a shout. Something hard and metallic swiped across his head like a club, sending him sprawling on the pavement.

All the others looked up in unison to the large figure in the entrance. Sarah's captor growled contemptibly, letting her slump to the ground but not keen on letting his prize go free. "Fuck off, mate, unless yous got a death wish."

In reply, the figure flashed his mechanized eye a challenging red. Mechanics clicked and whizzed, the digits of his prosthetic turning into the frightening point of a dagger.

The fight commenced with a hot blast of a plasma ricocheting off of it.

Sarah curled into a tight ball against the walls veined with piping systems. Silhouettes were hardly distinguishable in the dimness, but the many voices were that of righteous suffering. She squinted past her tears, trying hard to see who'd come to her aid.

_The cyborg._

One of the lizardmen had him around the neck while another charged with a still-fuming gun. A kick sent them misfiring and crashing into a length of piping. Vapors sprayed, adding to the obscure surroundings. Bodies were slammed by the strength of both his robotic and organic arms, all manner of bones cracking sickeningly. At one point, a surprise jab from the back of the Ursid's legs had him stumble. He hit the ground hard. She felt him nearby, and saw a silver glint slice at an enemy-- by the shrill cry, he successfully sunk his blade into a lizard's thigh. 

_This_ performance had Sarah in a jumble of turmoil. Blue eyes wide and watchful, she held her precious cargo and bit her lip, hauling herself up. She had to help him, somehow despite being pregnant and pretty much everything he wasn't. _Think, think, think..._

Her eyes fell on a half-broken pipe belching smog.

Nork had the Ursid held down with a foot to the throat like a conquered beast. The nozzle of his gun was aimed at his forehead as he cackled, "Any last word--"

Both heads and sentences were not safe with Sarah around.

The last thing the lizardman saw before his light was knocked out of the ballpark was a hormone-raged woman swinging a 3-foot, dangerously thick pipe. He twirled on one foot from the force, then dropped like a sack of rotten purps. The other advancing and injured criminals seemed to think twice about finishing off the pair.

Swiping blood from his lip, Johnny rose up on his feet, at Sarah's side in an instant. From deep in his throat came an animalistic roar, and the remaining thugs scrambled over one another, scampering _far_ away from the crazy pregnant woman and her protector. Good riddance.

Sarah may have been banned from that cephalopod's stand, but she had a feeling she'd be respected walking around this part of downtown again. 

She dropped the pipe like it was scalding, her body reminding her it wasn't used to acting like a female Viking and was in fact prone to easier damage thanks to the kid nestled in her uterus. Sarah felt a strong set of hands catch her small frame, then after several blinks and deep breaths, she was able to focus on Johnny's worried, slightly battered face.

"What'd th' scoundrels do, t'ya miss?" he demanded. He gave her a once-over, analyzing her state and the second heartbeat that was beating just fine. "Are ya alrigh'? Landsakes,if I hadn't decided ta make sure y'didn't get turned 'round..." 

"You followed me?" the girl questioned, shamelessly teasing him.

Johnny flicked his ears backward, darting his eyes to the side. "Well, uh-- 'course, I ne'er seen ya in the Beta Quar'er 'fore, so I figured.."

"It's okay. Thank you, so much, if there was a better word for that I'd say it. You didn't have to do any of this."

Johnny chuckled, confused. "Whaddya mean? 'Course I did. But then I seen ya able to handle yerself right' n' proper like no woman I've seen..." He shook his head and, for a moment, Sarah thought he was still in shock from the scuffle. But then he stared at her-- no, _into_ her, and she realized he was in shock about how she was no mere damsel in distress.

If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was smitten.

Sarah felt pink rise in her cheeks. She tucked stray strands of hair behind her askew bonnet, murmuring, "Oh, um-- well, you weren't so bad either. I didn't know your um.." She pointed to his arm, which was still in 'knife' mode.

"Oh, this hunk a junk?" Johnny tensed and wiped the blood off, quickly rearranging it back to his normal hand. "Jus' for unsavory crooks such as the lot of 'em. Once I turned'a more responsible age, I was gonna 'ave a pistol installed." He rubbed his neck as he glanced at the bodies piled around them. "Prolly be'er if I didn't. We best be gettin' ya home 'fore th' coppers cage up our wild arses."

"Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't mind someone walking me home, but I uh--"

Speaking was hard when an admittedly dashing man prevented wrongdoing upon your pregnant badonkadonk. What more, you somehow saved _his_ butt in a fashion some women would have been condemned in court for. If only Leland had seen _that,_ he'd probably have stayed his whole life, never thinking Sarah was going to be a dull, obedient housewife keeping him chained. That thought hurt awfully, and she felt like she just missed the shuttle to the chance of a lifetime.

She started sniffling out a weep, and Johnny's concern skyrocketed.

"Why, lass, whuh--no, no, it's really no trouble." He had to bend down, cup her smaller hands, and wipe a stream of droplets with his real thumb. "Aw, now, wha's th' matter?" 

"I'm sorry, I'm-I'm just--" Sarah moved back, but he didn't let her go, insistent on making her feel better.

"Wha' is it? Tell me."

"Y-You're so _nice!"_

The Ursid was taken aback. Then, he melted with understanding, murmuring, "Ye haven't 'ad a shoulder ta lean on in a while, huh?"

Sarah just cried between nodding and feeling like an idiot for letting her imbalanced emotions get the better of her. But instead of ridiculing or shunning, Johnny simply brought her against his chest in a tender hug. She let him hold her and wipe her tears with utmost gentility. 

"Now listen here, miss." Johnny fixed his warm gaze firmly on her. "What's yer name?"

"S-Sarah. Sarah H-Hawkins."

"Mrs. Hawkins-" 

"N-No." She shook her head, glancing at her feet. "Just Sarah."

Johnny made an "Oh" sort of face. He then cupped hers, smoothing over her cheek with a thumb. "I'd be more 'n happy ta bring ya to yer home or in fact, to m' humble dwellin' if ye need tha rest," he offered.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for free for her, was there? They just met and yet it felt like she'd known him forever, whereas, with Leland, _he_ had been a stranger. Did she miss out on anything then? She was starting to feel like there was a brand new opportunity staring right at her.

Sarah breathed out a shaky smile, regaining her composure to the best of her ability. She replied, "I'd like that and a glass of water very much."

Johnny beamed, chucking her under the chin. "If ya want the stars, I'll give 'em to ya."

Oh, that did it. She was totally in love.

He led her along and out of the alley, and much to Sarah's timid gratefulness, his big paw didn't let her petite hand go.


	3. Big Bear's Bairn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decided to stick around?

That wonderful baby smell seeped into Sarah's nose, but a caterwaul threatened to make her ears bleed. She rocked and soothed Jim while trying to crack open the can of baby food _,_ grappling with the lid for about ten minutes, thinking _why the hell were these things so hard to--?_

She gave up and huffed, marching straight to where her husband was leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed smugly.

"Oh _now_ y'want me help?"

"Mr. Silver, if you'd be so kind," Sarah said, fluttering her lashes.

"Y'know, this reminds me o' somethin'."

"We can reminisce later. Food can. Please."

It took one measly pry for the cyborg to unscrew the top. Before his wife could take it back, he took a sniff of the mucky green contents-- and instantly regretted it.

" _Eugh-_ -Yer gonna give the boy _this_ slop?" His overdramatic shudder reminded Sarah of some distant yet amusing memory too.

"It's what I always give him," she said.

"No wonder 'es scrawny. This looks like i's already been through someone's gullet."

Sarah tsked and deposited Jim in his wooden highchair. She reminded Johnny, "Sorry honey, but human babies are different than Ursid cubs."

"Ain't no sorta difference," he harrumphed. "If there is, ours is be'er fer th' lad."

Shortly, Sarah discovered Jim had sided with his adopted father's opinion. He tasted the spoonful but hastily spat it out, continuing to fuss. Jim always had some sort of fight to give and rebel like a 'lil' scamp' as John affectionately put it. That mother's intuition guess told Sarah it was going to become part of who he was, and if she wasn't prepared presently, she could only imagine how the _teenage_ years would be.

A few more tries yielded the same result. Jim wouldn't have any of the putrid green pea mush. Sarah was flabbergasted, sure as sure he'd eaten it before... Was he growing out of pureed food already? She must have been radiating new mother vibes for her husband to offer his advice again.

"Sarah, angel, th' lad's tryna tell ya he don't _want_ none'a that."

"Well, what would you suggest?" she sighed, more concerned for her son than annoyed.

Brushing past her, Johnny flickered on the stove. He began to move with experience, grabbing a pot, filling it with water, seeming to not be affected by the cries of the poor kid. His robotic hand grabbed a handful of items and switched to a knife, slicing and dicing them up. "Give 'im somethin' to drink fer now," he instructed.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"Trust me, love, no bonny pup of _any_ kind should be grown on tha' godforsaken crap. An' certainly no pup 'o mine."

She didn't have any other choice but to believe him. At second glance, she wouldn't guzzle that stuff down as a baby either...

While she nursed Jim, Sarah attentively waited for her husband to work his magic. Being a year married to a man who was part robot, part cook, part _musician_ (she often got serenaded by the lively plinking of a mandolin) didn't faze her one bit. John made things so much easier, and he did it out of his free will, to make her smile, to show he'd move the stars for her and the little boy who stole his heart the second he was born. 

He was everything she'd ever want, and Sarah was glad she moved on without a second-guess. Jim was going to grow up with the best father figure he could wish for, and that thought alone made her want to sob out of joy.

After chopping, seasoning, and stirring a variety of ingredients into a bubbling pot, Johnny proudly presented to Sarah a bowl of stew. "There, this oughta put some meat on wee Jimbo."

Sarah cocked a brow inquisitively. She suddenly wrinkled her nose, gasping, "Johnny, there's an _eyeball_ in there."

"It be crucial for developin' keen eyesight," her husband declared.

"I'm not feeding Jim an eyeball."

"Dammit woman!" John slapped the bowl down on the kitchen island, besides himself with frustration. "Y'ask me for help, well this is it!"

"Johnny--"

"Why don'tcha ask that astronomer arsehat how ta feed ya bloody kid, I'm sure he's got a doctorate for that kinda sh--"

" _John."_ Sarah silenced him with a hard look and tilted her head to Jim. 

The Ursid flared his nostrils. He clasped his hands as if praying for patience, let off steam with a sigh, then reasoned, "Give it a chance, dear. Look at Jimbo, he wants ta try it, don't ye boy?"

Jim did indeed appear to want to taste the savory-smelling soup. He clenched and unclenched his tiny fist, hoping one of his parents would feed him.

Sarah sighed and grabbed the bowl. She pondered for a minute and held it out to Johnny. He seemed offended, as if she'd accused him of another attempted poisoning.

"You feed him," Sarah cleared up with a soft smile. "I've been doing it a lot anyway. I'm sorry for doubting you.. would you accept this as my apology?"

Her husband scoffed, but he was smiling too. "Y'don't have to apologize t'me, love," Johnny muttered, kissing her forehead. "I know it's cause yer bein' a mother hen."

Soon, he was settled in front of the baby, getting a spoonful ready. "Alrighty Jimbo, open yer pod bay doors. The Bonzabeest transport's comin' ta dock!"

Jim accepted it. Miraculously, it stayed down. He gurgled happily, wanting another bite.

Johnny couldn't keep from tossing the biggest smile of satisfaction at his wife.

"Okay, mister, you win." Sarah laughed, disheveling his hair. She walked over to the steaming pot. "What is this stuff anyway? I might have a bowl, it smells great."

"Help yerself. Bonzabeest Stew's an old family recipe, fer the young n' old. Swear me mum bottle fed me tha' stuff."

"That would explain a few things." Sarah came back around to lean on the island, sneaking a poke to her husband's pudgy paunch.

"Har, har," Johnny said nasally, then to Jim, he mumbled, "Tell yer mum ta treat us better, y'hear, Jimbo?"

The baby cooed, reaching up for his silly father, who took that tiny hand in his mechanical one with as much gentleness as Sarah loved. Eating and enjoying the sight of her two most precious treasures, she smiled to herself.


End file.
